Friends or Foes?
by Healer Pomfrey
Summary: Harry saves Sev's life, but when Minerva asks Severus to postpone the Quidditch match for Harry's sake, it causes the two colleagues to put up a fight in front of the whole school. Who can bring them to reason, and who saves them from Poppy? Completely AU


**Friends or Foes?**

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_For Minerva McGonagall 62 :-)_**  
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Harry woke up in a cold sweat. '_Snape_!' he gasped inwardly. '_I have to go and look if he made it back to the castle_,' he thought, ignoring the splitting headache he got from his vision as he scrambled out of his bed. He quickly threw his winter robes over his pyjamas, pocketed his wand, and hurried out onto the grounds, not even taking the time to admire the beautiful white landscape as he ran.

'_I doubt he has gotten very far considering his injuries_,' he thought as he searched the snowy ground for the professor, whom he finally found at the edge of the Forbidden Forest just beside the Apparition border.

"Professor," he called out to the man, but the teacher was unconscious due to the injuries he had received by his master's spells. '_He looks as if he had internal injuries_,' Harry thought, observing that the professor's face was absolutely white but other than that he couldn't detect anything wrong. Quickly pondering what to do, Harry conjured a stretcher like he had often watched Madam Pomfrey do and tried to move the teacher with the Wingardium Leviosa spell. After a few tries, he gently lowered the professor onto the stretcher and covered him up with his own warm robes, noticing that the teacher was shivering violently. He had to try hard to make the stretcher float next to him, and it was about an hour after he had woken up that he arrived at the hospital wing with the unconscious man.

Harry let the stretcher land on the first bed and ran to fetch Madam Pomfrey, who threw him a surprised look and queried, "What happened, and why are you the one to bring him to me? What have you been doing at this time of the night anyway? It's two o'clock in the morning."

"I had a vision," Harry admitted in a small voice, while the Mediwitch was casting her diagnostic spells. "Voldemort was torturing Snape, and I woke up when he apparated away, wondering if he'd make it to the castle on his own." With that he took his robes back and pulled them over his pyjamas, craving the warmth of the thick cloth. "Is he all right?" he asked worriedly.

"After a little more than a day in my care he will be all right, Mr. Potter, and that's thanks to you. He wouldn't have made it if he had been out in the snow until the morning," the Mediwitch replied softly. "You saved his life."

"Madam Pomfrey," Harry said hesitantly, "could you please not tell Professor Snape about it? I don't want him to know."

"Let me say I'll try but I can't promise anything," the Healer replied thoughtfully, "and now off to bed with you if you don't want me to keep you here."

"Definitely not," Harry replied in determination, bade the Mediwitch good night, and hurried back to his dormitory.

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When Harry woke up in the morning, he noticed immediately that he had caught a bad cold. Knowing that the Quidditch match against Slytherin was going to take place two days later, he tried to hide his ailment from everyone. However, during his Transfiguration class on Friday afternoon, Professor McGonagall noticed that he had problems to concentrate, looked extremely pale while his cheeks were flushed, and that he had a cough that sounded very chesty.

"Mr. Potter, please remain for a moment," she told the boy, motioning his friends to leave, before she led him into his office and made him sit down. "Are you ill, Harry?" she queried in concern, laying a cool hand on his forehead at the same time.

"I'm fine," Harry croaked, unconsciously leaning into the cool touch.

"You're burning up, and I'm going to take you to the hospital wing right away," the professor replied gently, frowning as he objected heatedly.

"No Professor, I'm only warm because I took a hot shower before the afternoon classes," he offered an explanation he thought reasonable, causing the teacher to pull a thermometer out of her drawer, sticking it into his mouth before he knew what happened.

Seeing that the boy was running a high fever, McGonagall proceeded to ignore his protests and lead him to the hospital wing, gently steadying him on the way.

"A bad case of bronchitis," Madam Pomfrey diagnosed, throwing Harry an apologizing glance as she explained, "Minerva, I was supposed not to tell anyone, but yesterday morning Mr. Potter saved Severus' life by rescuing him when he came back from one of his meetings ending up unconscious in the snow. He even tucked Severus into his robes and walked through the snow in his pyjamas. That's why he could get so ill."

"Does Severus know about this?" McGonagall queried in surprise, causing Harry to sit up and glare at the adults.

"Please don't tell him; otherwise he'd hate me even more," he croaked pleadingly.

"We'll see, Harry," Madam Pomfrey replied diplomatically. "Now young man, you will take these potions and rest. You're going to stay here at least over the weekend."

"No!" Harry replied very upset. "I have to play Quidditch tomorrow."

"No, you will definitely not play Quidditch tomorrow," the Healer returned as she spelled a potion straight into his system, causing Harry to fall asleep, before he could protest anymore.

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"If Harry's illness is due to his rescuing Severus, I believe that we should postpone the Quidditch match, don't you think so, Poppy?" McGonagall queried, throwing her friend a thoughtful look.

"Yes Minerva, I think so, and if Severus makes problems just send him to me," Pomfrey replied firmly. "Harry doesn't want Severus to know that he saved his life, but you probably have to tell him in order to make him see reason."

McGonagall sighed. "I'll speak with him or if necessary with Albus. It's time to head down for dinner anyway." With that she crossed the hospital wing towards the door and made her way down to the Great Hall. Just when she reached the entrance hall, Snape arrived from the other staircase. "Ah, just the person I was looking for," she said, throwing her colleague a sharp look to assess his mood. "Are you completely recovered?" she queried, noticing in concern that he was very sallow even for the normal pale Potions Master.

"Do you believe Poppy would have let me go otherwise?" the younger professor drawled, causing McGonagall to roll her eyes.

"No, but I don't trust you to completely obey her advice; you're not so different from me," the older teacher replied in her Scottish accent, making Snape smirk. "Severus," his colleague continued, "I'd like to ask you a favour. Can we postpone the Quidditch match to next week, please?"

"And why would that be?" Snape queried, quirking an eyebrow.

"Mr. Potter has taken ill," McGonagall replied softly.

"And because Mr. Potter is ill, both our teams have to wait for him to recover?" the Potions Master asked sharply. "No Minerva, he should take better care not to fall ill right before an important Quidditch match. It's not my fault if he is so arrogant that he believes he can do whatever he wants without facing consequences."

The Transfiguration professor let out a snort, unaware of the group of students that had gathered around them, following their conversation with interest. "Unfortunately, it was Voldemort's fault. After he tortured you the other night, you ended up unconscious in the snow, and Harry rescued you in the middle of the night, draping his warm robes over you, and running around in his pyjamas to take you to the hospital wing. That's why he caught bronchitis. He begged Poppy not to tell you that he saved his life, but if you're so stubborn..."

"A fine fairy tale the golden boy has told you," Snape replied in an unbelieving voice that didn't match his expression of slight confusion that flashed over his face, before it was replaced by an indifferent mask.

"Harry didn't tell me anything," Minerva gave back, slowly getting angry.

"He's an attention seeking brat thinking that the world turns around himself," Severus drawled.

"You're delirious if you think so. You believe him to be like his father, but he's nothing like James. Don't forget that he is Lily's child as well. Wasn't she your best friend?"

"Well, let's have a duel to decide about the Quidditch match," Severus suggested, efficiently changing the topic away from a very sensitive point.

"Very well then, Severus, let's have a Seekers' scrimmage," the stubborn Scottish woman agreed and quickly headed to the huge entrance doors.

Neither of the teachers noticed that hundreds of students followed them out into the snow in absolute delight. The Transfiguration professor conjured a Snitch, while the Potions Master pulled two school brooms out of the broom cupboard, holding one out to his colleague. They immediately took into the icy cold winter air, while the students made themselves comfortable in their normal House seats, throwing warming spells at each other to keep them warm. Thirty minutes into the game, there was still no sign of the Snitch, and both teachers were freezing on their brooms but continued to feverishly search for the small golden ball.

Finally, Hermione stood up from her seat. "I'll go and fetch Dumbledore. Someone has to stop them, otherwise they'll both end up with lung infections, and we won't have classes for weeks." She hurried to the Great Hall, where the teachers were quietly having dinner wondering where everyone was, and came back with Dumbledore and Lupin in tow.

"Apparently, they're too outraged to think properly," Dumbledore whispered to Lupin, before he raised his voice and ordered his colleagues to stop flying and come to the Great Hall for dinner.

Seeing that the Headmaster was completely ignored by his colleagues, Lupin shouted, "Minerva, Severus, come down, you'll catch your death!"

To the students' amusement the teachers ignored the Defence teacher as well and continued their search for the Snitch all the while they were still verbally fighting with each other. Unfortunately, their words were not loud enough to let the curious students listen in.

All of a sudden, an enraged voice could be heard on the Quidditch pitch. "Minerva, Severus, you will come down here this instant. Otherwise, I'll confine you both to the hospital wing for a week!" Seeing that her friends at least turned their heads towards their voice, Madam Pomfrey waved her wand around the pitch, summoning the Snitch like her friend Rolanda Hooch had shown her many years ago, before she called a house-elf.

"Please mix enough Pepper Up potion for the students under the food for dinner," she instructed the house elf, knowing that dinner for the students couldn't have been served yet, before she shooed all the students back into the castle. "Everyone, who is still here in two minutes, will be taken to the hospital wing," she announced, causing the children to flee.

Finally, McGonagall and Snape gave up and landed in front of Pomfrey. "What do you think you're doing, Poppy?" Minerva asked furiously.

"We're not fifth year students anymore, Poppy. You have no right to keep us from flying," Severus added.

"Do you want to get the whole school sick? All the students were outside without even their warm robes, watching your stupid fight," Poppy gave back, smirking when her two colleagues let out simultaneous sneezes. "You're going to accompany me to the hospital wing for a dose of Pepper Up potion," she decided in a no nonsense tone that both of her colleagues knew better than to contradict.

Sneezing and coughing they followed the Mediwitch into the hospital wing, where Pomfrey ordered them to sit down on the beds next to Harry, before she waved her wand over them. "Both of you already got a cold, and I'm keeping you here for the time being." She forced both of them to drink a phial of Pepper Up potion and made them lie down on their beds. Knowing that neither of them would comply and stay willingly, she stunned both of her friends.

"Try to sleep for a while. I'll come and check on you later tonight," she told them, nodding contentedly as they both succumbed to the light sleeping draught she had mixed into the potion.

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Late in the evening, Madam Pomfrey was just checking on Harry, telling him what his teachers had been doing earlier, when the two subjects of annoyance woke up and demanded to be released. The Healer rolled her eyes, causing Harry to laugh, and stepped over to her colleagues.

"If you promise not to fight again, I'll release you in the morning. The Quidditch match tomorrow morning will be cancelled, because you kept the students outside for too long tonight. I don't want to cure the whole student body from colds," she said firmly.

"Tomorrow morning?" Snape hissed. "You don't believe you're going to keep us here, are you?"

"Poppy, let us go this instant!" McGonagall demanded, while both teachers were throwing the Healer simultaneous glares. "We're not fighting at all, we only fight you, because you can't keep us here. Get Albus here to tell you if you can't listen to us."

"This very moment!" Snape agreed angrily.

"I can and I will keep you here. You're both running a temperature, and you were very irresponsible tonight. One could think you were first years and not professors and Heads of House," Poppy replied calmly. "Good night, Minerva, Severus." With that the Healer retreated to her private quarters, leaving the teachers stunned in their beds. Unbeknownst to the two, she unobtrusively waved her wand to make sure the stunning spell would wear off in thirty minutes just for safety reasons.

"Who does she think she is?" Snape hissed to McGonagall.

"Ah, give it up, Severus; you can't win over Poppy," the Transfiguration teacher gave back in resignation.

Harry listened in amusement as the teachers continued to rant about the Healer, before he hesitantly raised his voice.

"Professors, Madam Pomfrey didn't stun me. Do you want me to cancel the stunning spells?"

"You do that better now than later, Potter," Snape replied.

"Yes please, Harry," McGonagall agreed.

Looking around to confirm that the Mediwitch was nowhere in sight, Harry slowly sat up, pulled his wand out from under his pillow, and waved it at his two teachers, consecutively casting the 'Finite Incantatem' spell at them.

"Thank you very much, Harry," his Head of House thanked him profusely.

Before Harry could reply, the Potions Master threw in, "Thank you Potter. By the way, the Quidditch match will be postponed for a week."

With that the two teachers left the hospital wing walking close to each other and talking animatedly, causing a small smile to play on Harry's lips as he drifted back to sleep.

**The End**

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_I'm sorry for the lack of updates during the last few days. I've been sick, and I can't promise regular updates over the next few days either. So please be patient and take the time to review my other stories *grins* - or pester me so much about not updating that I write a story just for you like I did with this one for Minerva McGonagall 62. _

_By the way, I set up two livejournal pages last week, one personal journal and one community journal for hp-sickfics. You can find the links on my profile page. I'd be happy to hear from you.  
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_I'm not a native speaker of English. Please excuse my mistakes or help me to correct them._

_All recognizable characters belong to J. K. Rowling, and I am not earning anything by writing this story._


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